


Fifteen Years|Summer Night

by LittleStrider



Category: Uncharted, Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hotel, I posted this on tumblr like 2 months ago, I'm all about that Angst, Maybe - Freeform, Motorcycle Rides, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 15:25:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7763095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleStrider/pseuds/LittleStrider
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two Sam Drake/Readers because I'm trash and I wrote these a while ago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Man... fifteen years... Has it really been that long?" You slightly lean forward on your own hotel bed. Sam's been stuck in a Panamanian Jail  since 2000. You thought he was dead, everyone did. Nathan and Rafe had seen him get shot. They saw him become a limp shell of a human. But here he is.

He's alive, and although some would say the years haven't been kind, you care to disagree. Sure, there are marks on his skin from the rough years, but he looks quite good considering he smokes at least a pack a day and he's been beaten to a pulp multiple times.

"Yeah, it has," Sam grins, his hands grip the blanket of his bed -- well you guess these beds aren't your's per se, it's more so just two beds in a hotel room paid by Sully. The four of you -- the other person being Nathan, obviously -- haven't exactly figured out who would be sharing beds with who. 

A sigh moves through your lips, damn feelings. The soft -- who are you kidding, it's scratchy as hell -- blanket makes a soft fluffing noise as you fall backwards into the middle of the blanket. You've always thought he was cute, like yeah, you think a lot of people are hot but it's different when it's someone you know personally.

You could get lost in your thoughts just thinking about him. His eyes. They're full of emotion despite the horror and pain he's been through. He always looks so hopeful, no matter how much you beat him down, he'll get back up. He's stubborn and it gets on everyone's nerves, but he's got determination. Several slightly faded birds in flight are tattooed along the left side of his neck. For fifteen years he kept that hope, he displayed it for all to see. It's honestly one of the most charming things you've ever seen.

"We've gotta lot of time to kill before they get back, huh?" A second after he speaks, a quiet click sounds out. Before you're able to see the source of the noise, Sam swiftly gets up and sits next to you. Only then do you finally see the source. 

"You should know that you're not supposed to be smoking in here," you groan. The smell of the smoke starts to settle in. God, you hate to admit it, but it's kinda hot.

Smoke swirls from Sam's lips out into the air, "And you should know that Sully wouldn't get a room where he wasn't allowed to smoke." He gives a fake pout, "Didn't know that smoking was such a turn off for you."

Oh no. Oh God no. You know he didn't mean it in that way, or at least he wasn't intending for you to have this reaction. The corner of your mouth twitches, you have to divert your eyes as far away from him as possible. 

Your eyes glance back just in time to see the exact moment he caught on, "I didn't know it was such a turn _on_ for you," his voice comes out as a whisper. It's hard to hear the slight change of tone, it starts slightly concerned, almost innocent; then to a mischievous tone. 

Sam takes another drag of his cigarette, this time keeping you in the corner of his eye while doing so. You take this as an excuse to sit back up, it's an excuse to look away. While looking away, his hand lightly taps you.

Your throat garbles in an odd way, causing your voice to die out for a second before clearing your throat and giving a weak "W-what...?"

Your eyes lock with his, then to the hand which had just tapped you. A cigarette lays out on his palm. Is he giving it to you? The two of you sit in silence.

You slowly bring your hand to his, you've never done it before. You know it's bad for you, but you've always wanted to try. During bad times you would get strong urges to do it; the thought of controlling air, seeing the swirls darken and evaporate. Maybe it's time to do it.

The moment your finger touches his palm, he pulls it away. 

"Never mind," Sam looks away from your, his eyes a bit clouded, "I can't do that to you." Guilt. You can hear it, see it in his face.

You furrow your brow in concern, "Do what?"

He gives a soft laugh, "Nathan'll kill me." 

A wave of emotions roll over you, maybe it's because it's late, or maybe it's just being alone with Sam. "Look," you shift your weight to where you're leaning on him, just barely, "if I'm going to do it, I want it to be with you."'

You can feel the movement of his body tensing as he gives a close mouthed laugh, "God if anyone heard this out of context." His cocky tone isn't matched with his blushed complexion. 

You lean closer, your head now resting on his shoulder, "If they did, it'd be the exact same thing."

Sam suddenly coughs in surprise, his face reddening further. The lingering smell of smoke starts to fade, although you get a strong smell of it when Sam briskly goes to use an ash tray.

You quietly stare at his back. God, could he go a day without wearing denim? Well, at least he wears it well. The fact that he's looking away gives you a small burst of confidence. 

"Sam, what do you think of me?"

His back straightens, "Like in general?"

"Yeah," you readjust the way you're sitting, crossing your legs. As you speak, he turns back to face you. His pale green-gray eyes scan every inch of your person. His face moves subtly. Stubble peppers along his jaw and mouth, the corners of the latter curl upward ever so slightly.

"Well," Sam lowers himself on the edge of the bed, his body centimeters away from you, "you're loyal, you've always been there for me, even after I dropped off the face of the earth." Heat gently kisses your cheeks as he compliments you. "There's also that good girl vibe you've got going, y'know?" He lightly chuckles, "But, after tonight I'm not so sure."

You place your hand over his. They're warm, but in a comforting way.

"Y/N...?" He makes an awkward laugh, almost slightly uncomfortable. No, not uncomfortable, it's a mix of confusion and surprise.

You nuzzle your nose into his shoulder, "I like you, a lot." The smell of smoke with a slight hint of leather forces a smile to spread across your face.

"You sure about that?" His voice slips into a slight New York accent, it's been so long since you've heard that.

"Yes, you dummy," the atmosphere lightens, thank God. You weren't made for steamy romance, you're more of an awkward humor type of girl. Soft giggles fill the room as the two of you laugh.

And then it happens.

He kisses you. 

Or... did you kiss him? You honestly don't know, it happened so fast. The taste of his mouth makes your head spin. It's like the feeling you get on a cool summer night, a bonfire setting the mood for you and your love. 

"Sam? You there?" A series of knocks sounds through the room. 

You scamper away from Sam in surprise to the bed opposite of him. He opens the door, winking at you as Nathan and Sully enter.

The next half an hour is full of the four of you spend time eating snacks, as well as you and Sully listening to the Drake brothers babble about Avery. 

"So," Sully puffs cigar smoke into the air, "what're the sleeping arrangements tonight?" 

You glance at Sam, you had completely forgotten about it. There's a short period of exchanging glances before Sam quickly replies, "I'll take the floor, Nathan and S--"

"Wait no, you and Nate should share a bed, I mean, you grew up together," you interrupt him. "I mean, if anything I should take the floor. You guys have been working hard all day," technically you did too, but you're trying to be polite. 

"C'mon Y/N," Sam says, "I got it." 

You frown at him. Some old blankets are rested in a corner of the room, those'll serve as your bed. Ignoring the others' objections, you lay the blankets next to one of the beds. "Goodnight!" You smirk at the three of him, you're not moving from this spot. 

"I guess that works," Nathan sighs. The blue-eyed adventurer gets into the bed that you're besides. "Thanks for the room Sully."

"Yeah, thanks Victor," Sam mutters, his mind is obviously else where. Sully nods, finishing his cigar and laying into his own bed. Sam rests on the side of the Drake bed. As the lights go off, he continues to stare at the ceiling. Even in the dark, you can sense his eyes shifting over to you, not to mention a soft creak emitting from the mattress.

A warm hand causes a jolt of energy to surge through your body. Outside, a car passes by the window. Those ten seconds of light show that Sam rolled onto his stomach. You touch his hand back, your fingers interlocking. Butterflies burst into your stomach and heart.

Time goes by, you're still holding his hand. He lets go, rolls onto his back once more, and looks around the room. He's getting up now, very quietly. Next thing you know, he's laying beside you. 

His hands comb through your hair. You nuzzle your face into his chest, "Thank you," you whisper.

"When you asked what I thought of you, I wanted to tell you how beautiful you are," he purrs into your ear. Stubble scratches the side of your face when the warmth touches your lips. 

A scream excitement starts lodging in the back of your throat. The only way to stop yourself from squealing is to press your face into his body. Once you gain control of yourself, you're finally able to whisper something back, "I've wanted to do this for fifteen years."

Sam holds you tight, "so have I."


	2. Summer Night

((A small Sam fic which was inspired by the fact that it is currently 115F(45C) out where I live and I hate it. I thought writing something with Sam would make me feel better so here you go!))

The moon’s reflection bounces off of the roofs of the buildings you walk pass. Sweat lightly coats your skin, despite the fact that you aren’t sweating. It’s quite hot out – the humidity doesn’t help either. At least there’s a chance of rain tonight.

A sudden revving of a motorcycle splits through the sounds of the night. Goosebumps freckle your appendages. Searching for the source while walking causes you to trip over the sidewalk’s crack. The grass cushions the fall, though an itching sensation along your arms bring bugs to your mind. You scamper onto your feet, the motorcycle is pulling up next to you.

The rider shines a flashlight towards your face. Behind the reflection, you catch a glimpse of the stranger’s face.

“Sam?” You take a step closer. Sure enough, it’s him. “I thought we were meeting at the park?”

“Hey Y/N,” he flashes a grin at you while running his hand through his hair, “I was on the way there, thought I’d give you a ride”. Tapping the kickstand with his foot, he pops the back compartment open, casually glancing over his shoulder to look at you. He hands you a shiny black helmet, only to put it on for you.

You thrust your chin up as he tightens the strap, “You haven’t told me where we’re going yet.”

He lightly taps your cheek, “It’s a surprise.” Your face heats up at his expression. He’s smiling, his eyes full of passion. Sam straddles the bike, moving the kickstand up. “Alright,” he pats the back seat, “Get on.” His shoulders serve as support to balance as you slide yourself between him and the seat. “Hold on tight.”

The engine revs, and the two of you are off. You opt to hold onto Sam instead of the seat. Despite the sticky hot air, he feels good to hold onto. Oh how you wish you could rest your head against his back, but the last thing you want is to smack him with the helmet.

The wind sends chills along your skin, you weren’t expecting a motorcycle ride. Now that you think of it, does Sam even own a car? Denim rubs against your hands when you hold on tighter – not that there’s a need to; the ride is quite smooth.

After some time of riding, Sam pulls into a familiar driveway. “I thought Nate and Elena were in Malaysia?” you ask while moving off of the cycle.

“They are,” he says, “and that is why I’m house sitting.” He runs his fingers through your hair once the helmet is off. You wince when his fingers hit a knot, but he stops and softly helps untangle it.

You blush, “Thank you.” He’s putting away the helmet when you speak up again, “So, what’re we doing?”

Keys jingle as he grabs his backpack and waves you over, “C'mon.”

You adjust your own bag on your shoulder. It’s not heavy, as all that you’ve brought are your own keys, phone, and a change of clothes – which Sam asked you to bring “in case it rained”.

Right behind Nate and Elena’s house is a small beach. The slow waves riding up the sand brings a delightful chill down your spine. The only sounds you can hear are the water, crickets, and footsteps. About ten feet from the water lays a homemade bonfire pit surrounded by four logs.

“Wow,” you gasp, “this is so…”

“Romantic?” Sam finishes. He’s looking at you from the corner of his eye. Your heart is bubbling with  infatuation. You can’t tell if you’re starting to sweat or if the humidity is getting worse. His flirting and playfulness drives you insane and you never want him to stop.

You follow his lead to the fire pit. Placing your bag against one of the logs, you follow Sam to the shoreline – er you mean coast. Your heart won’t stop beating. Sam’s lighter clicks as he lights up a cigarette.

“Hey, thanks for inviting me out,” you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. You want to call this a date, but whether or not it is is unknown to you.

“Thanks for accepting,” he keeps glancing over your face. You’re looking out at the ocean when he pulls you into a quick hug. When he pulls away you’re caught in a daze produced by love. A dumb smile spreads across his face. “So,” he pauses, “Y/N…”

“Ye–?” You open your mouth to speak, but it fills with water as Sam pushes you into the water with a laugh. The moment your head is out of the water, you yell at him, “Oh my God, you asshole!” He has the biggest grin on when you’re standing back next to him.

Your eyes widen. You start patting your back pockets; it’s gone. Panic sets in, causing you to quickly checking over every pocket again.

“Looking for this?” Sam waves your phone in his hand, it’s perfectly dry. Before you can ask the obvious question, he answers, “They don’t call me the best pickpocket for no reason.” That explains the hug.

“More like an excuse to touch my ass,” you happily mutter. You jut your head upwards at him, “I’m giving you ten seconds to put anything else you have on you back by the logs.”

He backs away towards the logs unfazed. He tosses his denim jacket next to the bags, his eyes never breaking contact with your’s. He silently walks back, still smiling.

You bear hug him and suddenly flinch. “H-hey, there’s nothing else in my pockets!” You mumble. He’s making you want to melt.

“I know,” You can almost hear him smile.

You lean all of your weight on him, he knows what you’re trying to do, so he lets it happen. Splashing water coats your legs and you’re suddenly laying on top of him. Water drips from your hair onto the sand around Sam’s head.

The two of you laugh together, eventually joining in sync. “Were you planning this from the start?” You look him in the eyes.

“Maybe,” the fact that he’s so pleased with himself is truth enough.

You scoff, “Maybe, my ass.”

The next minute is full of staring into one another’s eyes. The waves continue to roll across your legs. Time is slowing down. In sync, your lips touch. Pulling away, both of you quietly laugh. Sam’s eyes show his passion for you, how he shares your feelings.

You slowly get off of him and scoot back so your legs aren’t touching in the water. He does the same. You’re starting to grow sleepy. “My socks are wet,” you give a short giggle.

“Well at least you brought extra clothes,” he gets onto his feet and winks. “How about we go inside and get comfortable?”

You place your hand in his, “I’d love that.”


End file.
